Temporary
by Mischa1
Summary: In the dead of night, a reunion takes place as the end draws near.


Temporary  
by Mischa  
mischablue@iprimus.com.au  
  
Rating: PG  
Category: VAR  
Keywords: Doggett, Scully, Reyes, Mulder, DSR, DAL (M/S and  
D/S), pre-colonisation??  
Spoilers: general knowledge, 'Ice', 'Biogenesis'  
Summary: In the dead of night, a reunion takes place as the  
end draws near.  
Archive: XFMU, yes; SHODDSters, yes; will post other places,  
too.  
Disclaimer: The characters of John Doggett and Dana Scully  
aren't mine -- they are the intellectually and creatively  
the property of 1013, Fox, Chris Carter, and the actors who  
portray them.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stars didn't seem to appear to fall as often now, but when  
they did they raced through the sky with a fervour she  
wished she had. Once, she had known of meteor showers, of  
full moons, of constellations cycling through the sky, but  
now things were different. From stars, life she had once  
thought impossible descended. And from that life, there was  
loss.  
  
There was the kind of loss that scarred a life forever in  
the shape of a fallen comrade, death rising from the ashes  
in a groteque mimicry of the phoenix' triumph. There were  
smaller losses too: of faith, of hope, of belief. Death  
would rise and so many other things would fall; the heart of  
existence, the wonder that kept humanity searching the  
stars.  
  
Dana Scully was searching the stars now, seeking the answers  
held behind points of light suspended in unfathomable sky.  
She sat alone in the darkness, under the canopy of night,  
flanked by watchful friends. She felt like a sacrifice  
offered to the gods raining fire down upon them, bait laid  
out for scavengers' hunger. Yet that was not what this  
meeting was for; they were congregating here in silence and  
solitude, a reunion tainted by paranoia and fear.  
  
Doggett's voice broke the silence them, softly tumbling from  
the darkness. "He's here," he said, and Scully suddenly  
wished he was right beside her at that moment, if only so  
she could feel his presence radiating warmth around her. The  
night before, he had held her and whispered to her so many  
things. That they would all make it out of here okay. That  
as futile as this meeting seemed, it was necessary. That in  
the end, it would be worth it for all. They had loved each  
other fiercely then, with a passion she feared, because she  
thought it was her instinct telling her it would soon be the  
end forever.  
  
The safety on Reyes' gun clicked off. Everything seemed to  
slow down. In the sharp silence she could hear her heart  
thud in her ears as she rose to her feet. The car pulled in  
with the sleekness of the wind blowing past their faces,  
silent in the night. The car door opened and closed, and a  
shadow stepped out.  
  
"Scully, it's me. Call off the dogs?"  
  
In another life... in *this* life, she may have found that  
funny, if only there hadn't been so much at risk. Reyes  
sprung into action without Scully needing to ask, heading  
towards the newcomer with determination in her gaze. The  
approaching figure wouldn't have a chance if he attempted to  
rush her.  
  
"Mulder."  
  
"Agent Reyes," he said, and she stopped.  
  
"It's him," Reyes called to Scully as Mulder approached, and  
the two women smiled. "I'll... check anyway," Reyes added,  
and Mulder bowed slightly at her, smiling at her intuition.  
  
"Agent Reyes, you *know* it's me," he said as she checked  
the back of his neck.  
  
"There's knowledge, and there's being sure. Having said  
that, of course, I think a little more inspection wouldn't  
hurt." Mulder chuckled and Reyes allowed him to stand  
straight, sharing a solemn nod.  
  
"Are we safe?" Mulder asked, all humour gone, gaze  
beseeching.  
  
"We're safe," Reyes replied, and there was little doubt in  
her eyes. They were as safe as they could possibly be, under  
the circumstances, and they all knew to trust her instincts.  
"Mulder... I'm glad you're still you."  
  
"I'm glad I'm still me, too." They nodded at each other  
again, a little awkward, both relieved. Mulder glanced over  
to where Doggett stood at the edge of the circle Scully  
seemed to have created for herself; they acknowledged each  
other with respect in their eyes. They all knew what had to  
be done this night.  
  
Scully sought out one last, reassuring gaze from Doggett  
before turning to her former partner, watching him approach  
through the desert wind. "Mulder," she said, and it was all  
she needed to say. There was a powerful melancholy threading  
through the air this night; weaving through the darkness,  
into their souls, along the connections these four people  
had forged and strengthened as they had known each other.  
They each had a pivotal place in the scheme of things, and  
they all knew it, respected it, respected each other.  
  
There was solidarity this night, and sadness, because soon  
they would have to depart and the future would bear down on  
them again. And so when Mulder came to her, Scully knew it  
could never be like old times.  
  
As Reyes had done, Scully examined the back of his neck and  
remembered a storage room in Alaska, paranoia thick in the  
air. They had been new partners then, learning the game.  
They had come so far since then, but the fear was the same.  
Reyes' instinctive call had been the right one, as it had  
been so many times in the past, but Scully couldn't help but  
want to see it for herself. The brief moment of contact  
allowed for confirmation that she couldn't trust to her eyes  
alone.  
  
Finally, satisfied, she pulled away and met his gaze.  
  
"You look well," she said, and on the surface it was a lie.  
He was beaten, bruised, broken in more ways than she had  
feared when he had first left in the night promising to find  
answers. The livid shadows clung to his flesh, and she knew  
that he was concealing more than his outward appearance  
suggested. And yet something radiated from him that she knew  
no attacker could touch. Resilience, a fire emanating from him  
that she hoped the alien beings could never understand.  
  
For while the superhuman faculties of the alien replicants  
allowed them to take bullets and walk away, she still  
believed in the strength of the human spirit, its capacity  
to survive all trials. She knew that now. She had always  
reminded herself of that when metal cracked through the air,  
when she held William in her arms, when John stood beside  
her on cold winters by child-sized graves.  
  
Years had passed this way, and Mulder was resilient as they  
were now, but carried with him a shadow of sadness. "You  
look temporary," he said as he watched her sit on the sand.  
  
Scully curled her feet under her and sighed. "So do you."  
  
It felt like maybe this was a dream, of a child building  
sandcastles by the waters on African shores. The truth  
stretching out beyond them in angles predicting humanity's  
past. Or eternity, flying out before them, the wasteland  
mere crumbs in an hourglass. Time was slipping away from  
them in each moment, and the future rising. Her hands pushed  
through the sand, and remembered a crucifix laid out among  
bags of eroded stone and quartz. Another innocent lost to  
the future, an innocent never meant to be.  
  
So much had been laid to rest for the cause they were all  
fighting for, and if nothing happened soon, everything else  
would be laid to hell.  
  
The night before this, she had rested in John's arms and  
simply didn't move. She would only ever admit it to herself  
and to him, but she was scared of losing the time she now  
held so precious. The call had been unexpected, from a man  
they had thought long dead, and it could only mean one  
thing, that the colonisation was coming. And that it was  
coming soon.  
  
It was selfish of her, she knew, but she couldn't help but  
categorise all that had been taken from her to this point.  
  
"I lost Emily to this," she had told Doggett, and he held  
her close. "I lost too much of my life, to this. They  
created life from me, they took it from me, they let me die  
only to prove they could save me. And in the end, after all  
of this, They still win."  
  
"Dana, they didn't take your faith," he said, and she  
frowned. He was right, in a twisted way; she still had  
William, hidden away in the hideout of the Lone Gunmen, no  
doubt receiving an education no six-year-old child had a  
right to learn. And she still believed in things, although  
they were few and far between.  
  
Scully believed in Doggett. And he believed in her. It had  
been enough to move them past the bitterness she had felt at  
Mulder's voluntary departure, beyond the professionalism of  
the working relationship compromised by high-level  
corruption at the hands of the conspiracy. It had been  
enough when she stood in his house the first night they had  
fallen together, shocked at the revelation that had built  
within her for months before spilling out in one tense  
moment. It was enough as they survived attempts on their  
lives, their constant investigations, sharing memories over  
graves in snow and the broken promise of the New Year.  
  
And now... it was enough now, too.  
  
Scully glanced up, caught Doggett's gaze. He stood opposite  
to Reyes, gun drawn and tense in his hands, his eyes  
reassuring. She took a deep breath and faced Mulder again.  
  
"Tell me," she said, steeling herself as she spoke. The  
meteor shower around them lit up the sky in scattered light.  
  
Mulder's voice was made for storytelling, and it was a  
harrowing tale he told. Of shadows and metal, fire and  
ascension. Meteors fell heedlessly around the three agents  
and their friend, a backdrop of falling stars, a hint of the  
future soon to descend upon them. And he told it to her  
quickly, rushed by time. Urgency crept in with every second  
slipping past and they strategized as quickly as two people  
who would never see each other again could. This was the  
final plan, and from the sidelines Reyes and Doggett planned  
with them. They kept their eyes peeled, senses alert.  
  
If anyone were to see them from the road, they would be at  
risk. If a light descended from the sky and revolved around  
them, they would all be dead.  
  
"He loves you," Mulder finally said, after Scully's gaze  
strayed one too many times.  
  
"I know," she said, and startled herself with her own  
certainty. Reyes turned away slightly, giving the appearance  
of privacy, and Doggett simply met Scully's steady gaze.  
  
Mulder's voice dropped, needing to know, wanting to make  
sure she was safe in her choice. "Do you love him, Scully?"  
  
The meteors had stopped falling, but she kept her neck  
craned to the sky, still focused on impossible points of  
light. "Mulder..."  
  
"I'm only asking. I need to know Doggett's taking care of  
you." There was regret in his voice; genuine and melancholy,  
but they couldn't dwell on that now, not while the world was  
ending at their feet, not when things were so different now.  
  
"I gave my life to you. He brought it back." Her voice  
tightened, suspecting his reasons for asking her. "It's not  
gratitude," she defended herself. "That's not why I'm with  
him."  
  
He stared at her for a moment and smiled. Just like old  
times, that smile was enough to soothe all tension away. "I  
knew it wasn't gratitude by the way you looked at him  
tonight," Mulder said. "I don't doubt it, Scully. I  
wouldn't, ever."  
  
Scully looked away from Mulder and focused on her lover, gun  
in hand, protectively watching them both. Time was running  
out for them all now, and so much still needed to be said,  
and there were no words. "I know that," she said, standing  
up. "I know that, and you have to leave now."  
  
He sighed, and slowly rose from the sand. Scully felt for  
her cross, uttered a silent prayer to a God she wasn't  
entirely sure existed anymore. "Mulder..."  
  
"I may not make it."  
  
"We know."  
  
It finally felt like a true reunion then; each person moving  
past their wariness and stepping forward, giving their  
farewells to Mulder right when he was about to leave. They  
would never see him again. They knew it with a certainty  
that frightened them. Maybe the colonisation would come,  
maybe their efforts on the outside world and Mulder's on the  
underground would prevent it, but either way, their paths  
would never cross after this.  
  
"Take care of yourself," he told Scully, as Reyes stepped  
respectfully away and Doggett remained by her side.  
  
"I will."  
  
"Take care of William."  
  
"I will."  
  
"Watch Doggett's back."  
  
"Mulder, you don't have to *ask* me to do any of this, you  
know." Mulder grinned down at her, his smile lopsided and  
sad. Words were always so inadequate here; there was always  
too much to be said, and the breadth of the English language  
not enough to cover it. She simply took his hand and  
squeezed. "Take care."  
  
"If anything happens to me out there... you'll know. I don't  
know how I'll get the message to you, Scully, but --"  
  
"I'll know," she murmured, and they both knew it was true.  
Maybe she would wake up gasping in the night the moment his  
soul extinguished into the atmosphere, but Doggett would be  
there to catch her.  
  
"You'll be okay to leave?" Reyes called, ready to watch  
Mulder's back as well if he asked.  
  
"Yeah." And with a final parting smile, he turned and left,  
heading back to his car.  
  
No, there were no words, after all. Desert cold raced up her  
arms, and she shuddered. Reyes stepped towards her,  
tentatively putting her arms around her defensive friend.  
  
"Dana," Reyes said. "It's okay. That was goodbye."  
  
Scully knew it was. That wasn't why she was shaking.  
  
She was shaking because she knew that now there was only one  
step to go, and two paths to be taken from here. Maybe  
they'd awaken to a broken world, of ravaged cities and  
rising plagues. Or maybe they'd simply wake up to the same  
world it was now, a world descending into a man-made  
corruption, the hope of a star-gazing humanity tainted by  
their own machinations. Either option left little solace for  
her, but still Scully knew she would fight for the latter,  
if only to maintain her own free will.  
  
"I don't think it's my instinct or feelings you should rely  
on here," Reyes said. "Dana, it's yours. You know this  
better than me."  
  
Sometimes, Monica seemed so much like Melissa it threatened  
to break Scully's heart. "You're right," she said, and they  
smiled at each other, a smile forged in sadness and shared  
cameraderie. "Thank you for being here," Scully added.  
"Thank you... for watching our backs."  
  
"Always." Reyes paused, searching for the right words.  
"Dana," she finally said before pulling away from her  
embrace, "There's no point wishing on falling stars now."  
  
Scully looked into the intuitive, wise depths of her friends  
eyes and saw the same disillusioned hopes of childhood  
within them. And knew that Reyes was right.  
  
"I haven't wished on a star for years."  
  
"Don't start now, just because they're around a lot  
tonight."  
  
The same could be said of relying on hope alone, Scully  
thought, and she knew that was why this night had been so  
bitterly sad.  
  
"I'll leave you two alone," Monica said, reaching up to give  
Doggett a hug as well. The two friends held each other  
close, years of shared memory creasing their foreheads.  
Scully and Doggett didn't know if they would see Reyes again  
after this night either, but as long as there was a strategy  
in place for the colonisation to be defeated, there was  
always the possibility that they could. But only a  
possibility.  
  
And then, in the desert night, taillights moving into the  
distance, they were alone.  
  
"You okay?" he asked. She slid her arms around him and felt  
his pulse under her ears. The desert was cold at night,  
empty, and alone.  
  
"John," Scully said with all the conviction she had left in  
this world, "we will last."  
  
"I know," he said with the same confidence he'd once had  
just before she'd thrown a cup of water in his face.  
  
She rolled her eyes up at him. "We *will*."  
  
"Dana..." Doggett pulled back from her enough to stare  
straight into her eyes, her heart. Playfulness gone, for one  
moment in time. "We will."  
  
She nodded. "I just... I had to let you know."  
  
They moved to the car as one, ducking away from the chill  
air, escaping to reality even as an unspoken part of them  
both wanted to run from it. "Mulder will make it," Doggett  
said, but he wasn't entirely confident, and it showed in his  
eyes.  
  
"Yes," she said, and she wasn't sure if that meant she  
thought he would halt events on his side or that he would  
survive.  
  
"I'll fight for you and Will. You know that."  
  
It was the same vow he had made her ever since Scully and  
William had first found themselves alone in the world, and  
she knew in her heart she would do the same. "I would fight  
for you. Just... please, do it here."  
  
They were weary of the world and its descent into denial and  
madness, but they would promise each other what they could  
offer of hope anyway, because they believed in each other.  
The car rumbled into life, and it felt like another small  
phase had passed from a night of unreality to the chaos that  
lay beyond.  
  
She watched Mulder's retreating taillights in the mirror as  
they pulled away. When they had faded to pinpoints on the  
horizon, another caught her attention. One last falling  
star, right out of the corner of her eye. Scully closed her  
eyes, for one fond moment... and then opened them again.  
Hopes left unspoken. Watching the flaming stone extinguish  
into the night.  
  
"Let's go home," Doggett said, and it was enough.  
  
She leaned against the window and stared out into the night  
sky. "Yes," she said.  
  
Scully didn't believe in the power of falling stars anymore,  
but then she no longer needed to wish.  
  
~ END ~ 


End file.
